


Right & wrong is as simple as black & white....right?

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Drama, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, Pre-Canon, Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-06
Updated: 2010-08-28
Packaged: 2018-09-03 09:06:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8706292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: "Sammy here is coming with us." She grinned at Dean's enraged shocked eyes that glared down at them."God damn you, put me down!" he yelled, and then gasped as the pressure against him increased and he thought he would explode from all the pressure on his chest."Come now, cursing won't help you or Sammy at all." Dean struggled against the force, as he saw the man pick up his brother and fling him over his shoulder."Put Sam down now, you bastard!" His struggles became frantic, as he tried to get passed the increasing pressure, causing himself to yell in pain."You should have stayed with that hooker Dean." The red haired bitch whispered, as Dean's world went pitch black.





	1. Casper, Wyoming

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

  
Author's notes: Casper, Wyoming IS a real place! o.o i'm always going to use real places for this story (cause it's kinda fun to look up places, especially if they have funny names =3)

this one is actually my first fic i ever wrote for supernatural 0.0 so has fun! ;D

wait!!!!!   
Sam is 13 and Dean is 17!!!! ok, NOW you can go on and read ;p  


* * *

****

 

"Fuck me, Dean please!" Sam whined, bucking into the hand that was fisting his cock. Cock twitching at his words, Dean forced himself to concentrate on NOT just flipping his little brother over and fucking him right then and there. He sucked on Sam's neck, making him whimper, before lowering himself and slowly licking Sam's length, base to head. A white light flashed in his eyes and Sam came so hard he blacked out for a few seconds, leaving Dean with a too painful hard on. He reached over to the night stand and grabbed some tissue, wiping Sam of white cum and pulled his little brother into his arms. Sam managed a smile, and a long slow kiss, before he fell asleep.

 

After watching him for a few minutes, shoulders already broadening, chest hardening with muscles, Dean couldn't help it when his dick twitched and he slowly untangled himself from his brother's limbs and worked his way to the bathroom. Cursing his conscience to hell, Dean jerked off to thoughts of fucking Sam senseless and he came hard.

 

_Earlier that day-_

_They had been on the road for hours, and Sammy was already starting to nod off in the back seat. Dean was starving, having only eaten a sandwich several hundred miles back. It was a small flimsy thing with barely anything on it, and Dean wished they would pull over at a burger place, god damn ANYWHERE as long as he got food. But of course he didn't speak up, his father was already pissed for a reason Dean didn't know, and Dean never complained. Not even when he was all marked up by that damn werewolf a year back, and if he could handle that, he could handle his hunger for awhile longer. Dean cursed himself inwardly as he realized he talked himself out of jumping out of the car at the next stop and running to the nearest food joint. He leaned his head against the cool glass of the window and watched the trees and pavement slip by at a blurring speed. He yawned loudly, not even realizing he was dead tired until his eyes started to close on their own, and he fell asleep._

_-XxX_

_Opening his eyes Dean saw the ceiling of another motel room, an all too familiar sight. He looked at the clock and groaned. It was six in the morning; he shouldn't even be up awake yet. Rolling over his body collided with something warm that grunted, opening his eyes he saw Sam open his eyes slowly and push at Dean so he could have more room on the bed. Pushing hard enough, Dean went tumbling onto the floor, too tired and not even fully awake yet to yell at Sam or even care much that he was going to have a bruise. He laid there for a few more minutes before he forced himself up and walked over to the bathroom._

_After he took a shower, and went to the bathroom, Dean came out in a towel to see Sam sprawled out on the bed clutching at his pillow. Smiling slightly, he quickly got dressed, and found a note lying on the table in the middle of the room._

_Dean-_

_Had to go out sooner than I thought, I left you some money and a credit card in the envelope. Take care of Sam, don't go out to another damn bar or I will kill you, and I'll be back in a week or so, I'll call soon._

_*Sighing, Dean opened the envelope that was under the paper and counted out the money and read the name on the credit card. When Sam was opening his eyes for the second time Dean was putting the money and card in his wallet._

_"Hey Dean, what's for breakfast?" he asked, rubbing his eyes and slowly sitting up._

_"Damn, sorry Sammy I didn't go get it yet, take a shower and I'll go now." Dean said, as he slipped his wallet into his back pocket, and slipped on his leather jacket. He heard Sam murmur an agreement and Dean found the motel keys on the nightstand, he slipped out the door, and locked up. Squinting his eyes against the already bright light of the sun, he started walking across the lot and found a doughnut place just around the corner. A little flirting; and he walked out of there with free doughnuts, egg and ham sandwiches, and a name to the place where they were at; Casper, Wyoming. Dean had almost burst out laughing when she told him, so their dad was working a haunting in Casper, Wyoming. He chuckled as he unlocked the door and stepped inside the cool motel room, taking another look around it really wasn't all that crappy. No stains on the walls or floors, and the beds were clean and smelled as such; all in all, he was happy at his father's motel choice._

_"Hey, I'm back!" Dean called to Sam, who was still in the shower, as he took a seat at the small coffee table._

_"Hey, what did you get?" Sam asked hungrily, stomach nearly growling as he walked out of the bathroom._

_"Some doughnuts and ham…." Deans voice trailed off as Sam walked out and into the room in only a towel that hung loosely on his hips, showing the v that led down to;_

_"Dean?" shaking his head Dean looked up, slightly flushed and wide eyed as he realized A. he was staring, and B. he was staring at his brother._

_"No, uh….. Ham and cheese sandwiches, hurry and get dressed, their getting cold, and I'm not gonna stand around and listen to you bitch about it later." Relieved that his voice didn't shake at all, he focused on pulling out his sandwich and taking a big bite out of it. He closed his eyes and moaned at the delicious taste, it may have been a cheap sandwich and a little too stale, but he hadn't eaten in forever. Opening his eyes again, he caught Sam looking at him with a look in his eyes that made his cock harden. Wait, wait back UP! He was NOT getting turned on by his brother. No. He ripped his gaze away and reeled in the panic and lust he was feeling, putting on his best 'calm and cool' expression, and taking another bite out of his sandwich._

_After a few more minutes of shuffling and rustling sounds, Sam plopped down in a seat across from him and reached in the bag, his eyes widening slightly._

_"Dude, there has to be at least fifty sandwiches in here!" he exclaimed, as Dean reached over and pulled out another greasy sandwich, taking a bite before answering._

_"And, your point?" he said, mouth full, and successfully pulling a disgusted look from Sammy. His perfect lips twitching down into a frown, and his brows furrowing, it was nearly as cute as his 'pouty face' as he had used to call it. He shook his head and tried to clear his brain, he was slipping again._

_XxX_

_Around five or six sandwiches later, Dean leaned back against the chair, patting his full stomach, and making a satisfied noise in the back of his throat. Sam laughed and flopped down on one of the two beds and flipped through the channels on the TV. Sighing, Dean got up and went to join him, sitting on the other bed and watching at least ten seconds of the talk show Sam was watching before getting restless. He got up and paced around the room, looking for something to do… and then he got an idea._

_"Hey, Sammy?"_

_"Yeah, Dean?" Sam answered, looking up from the TV._

_"Let's go out and do something, I'm bored." Sighing, Sam smiled slightly and sat up._

_"Like what, hey where are we anyway?"_

_"Casper, Wyoming." It took about five seconds after the words were out of his mouth before Sam doubled over in laughter. The sight causing warmth to spread throughout Dean and he frowned slightly._

_"Yeah, yeah, it's not that funny, so we gonna go or what?" Sam took a deep breath and stood up_

_"Yeah, but where?" he asked, sliding on his shoes and jacket._

_"I don't know, but does it matter? I just need to go somewhere."_

_And that's how Dean found himself in a mall full of screaming girls. They had only gone there because apparently it gave out tons of free samples and it had an arcade, which Sam really wanted to go to, but the second they stepped in, they were greeted by tons of insanely loud girls. Apparently there was some boy band that just happened to be making an appearance. They tried to get back out, but they had been swept up in the mob that was known as 'Scary Fangirls'. He had seen them before, but seriously they scared him to death, and he was lucky he and Sam didn't get separated. They spent an hour listening to horrible music, and the entire time Sam was pressed up against him, trying to keep as far away from the girls as possible. This was not helping Dean's sanity what-so-ever, and when they could finally leave, he practically dragged Sam out of there, and back to the motel._

_When they finally made it Dean blatantly ignored Sam and bee-lined straight for the bathroom. He locked the door and ran the shower, stripping and stepping into the cool water. He tried to let it relax him but his hard on was pretty hard to ignore, and finally he just gave in. He wrapped his hand over his already leaking cock and started to slowly stroke himself. Images of Sam washing through his mind, he tried to push them away, before just giving in and letting them flash, and make him even more excited. He imagined Sam kneeling down in front of him and slowly taking his length in his mouth, head of brown hair bobbing up and down, and the thought was just too much. Dean came in hot spurts over his hand and stomach. Trying to calm his breathing he finished taking a shower and quickly got dressed. He mentally shook himself, this was his BROTHER that he was having a hard on for here. Dean thought he put all this away, but apparently he hadn't. He sighed and took a step outside, pausing in mid-step at what he saw._

_Sam was sprawled out on his bed, pants lowered and his hand was clenched over his cock. Oh god, Dean's cock jumped and immediately went hard. Sam had a misty look in his eyes, and his lips were parted, and about five seconds after standing there Dean made up his mind. Fuck it, he thought, as he walked up to Sam and pushed Sam's hand out of the way and grabbed his brother's dick._

_"Dean, what are you-" Sam started to ask_

_"Ssh, just let me." He half moaned half purred into his brother's ear, causing Sam to shiver. He smiled and licked and sucked on his earlobe, and started to slowly move his hand. Sam moaned, and bucked into Dean's hand, causing a smirk to form on his lips. He leaned in and gently touched his lips to his brother's, before deepening the kiss and soon he was sucking on Sam's tongue._

_Sam was overwhelmed; Dean was now sucking on his neck, and twisting his hand slightly as he pumped him, rubbing his thumb over his head slightly with every pump. Sam wanted more, he wanted to feel Dean inside him; he wanted his brother to fuck him senseless._

_"Fuck me, Dean please!" he whined, all embarrassment thrown out the window with Deans first touch._

_XxX_

_He cleaned himself quickly before walking back out into the room; he figured Sam would want him there when he woke up, so he steered to the bed Sammy was laying in and slowly slipped under the covers. For awhile all he did was stare at his brother, he couldn't get enough of him, and if his damn conscience didn't get in the way he would have already fucked Sam. He closed his eyes as he thought those words, shame washing through him, and he fell asleep, comfortable and happy except for the sick nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach._

__


	2. of not so cheap beer and hookers

  
Author's notes: chapter two!!  


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****

 

He woke up early, five freaking a.m early. He had stayed in bed for as long as he could rationalize before getting up and dressed. He was going to get a good breakfast for Sammy, because he knew his little brother didn't like greasy fast food like he did. Sammy liked to eat a real breakfast, and he was going to make it up to Sam. Guilt washed through his gut as he waited for the food to be ready at the diner not too far from the motel. At least he hadn't done anything more than jerk his brother off, he would make it up to him and then hopefully Sam would put it in the past.

 

\----

 

When he got back, Sam was still in the same position as he was when Dean left. Setting the food on the table Dean went over and gently shook his brother a few times, and when he still didn't have a response he smacked him lightly upside the head, causing the teen to jerk and fling his eyes open. After seeing it was just Dean he glared lightly, mind still muddled with sleep.

 

"G'way, M'sleepn." He muttered as he flipped over and buried his face in his pillow.

 

"Fine, guess I'll eat your waffles since your lazy ass is gonna be glued to the bed." Dean said, smirking when Sam shot up and looked at Dean with a sparkle in his eyes. You'd think he was a five year old in a candy store for the first time.

 

"Waffles?" Sam asked eagerly, almost vibrating with excitement as he jumped out of bed and lunged at the table with the Styrofoam containers filled with his favorites.

 

"Geez Sammy, have I been starving you or what?" Sam's only response was a delighted moan as he stuffed his face with waffles and eggs. Dean laughed and picked up his third cup of coffee, and sat on the ledge under the window. He sat there watching Sam stuff down waffle after waffle, and he smiled slightly, sipping his coffee. God! He sounded like such a pervert! He ripped his gaze away and glared out the window, his hand clenched his coffee cup so tight that he ended up crushing it and splashing himself with the hot black liquid.

 

"Ouch! God damn!" he yelled, throwing the cup down and running into the bathroom. He chucked off his shirt and grabbed the nearest towel he could find, ran it under cold water, and pressed it to his red aching skin. Damn that felt better, he thought as he felt the wonderful cool water soothing the angry red burns all over his chest, his back to the bathroom door.

 

X/X

 

"Dean, are you ok?" Sam asked franticly, running into the bathroom, and stopping abruptly when he found his brother shirtless. Last night's memories suddenly pouring out, and he blushed insanely; how something like that could stay locked up in his brain THAT long he didn't know. What he did know was that he was staring, a funny feeling rushing into him and he knew where it came from. From all those times he had seen Dean without a shirt, sweaty from training, or when he smiled that wonderful smile whenever he was with Sam, and the times when they would get so close that Sam could feel the heat radiating off his brother's body, could count the freckles that were on his brother's face.

 

"Sammy, you ok?" Dean asked cautiously, making Sam jump and realize he had been staring blankly at Dean's chest.

 

"U-Uh yea, um; does it hurt?" he asked, pointing to Dean's chest, which was now a puffy angry red.

 

"It's fine, a little ice and it should go down. Damn little fucker," his head nodded curtly in the direction of the coffee cup lying crushed on the floor. "Never drinking coffee again!" he muttered as he pressed the cloth back to his chest and winced this time. Sighing, Sam left his brother in the bathroom and walked back into the room. He grabbed the bag that was lying next to his bed, and riffled through it until he found the first aid kit, walking back into the bathroom he found Dean still trying to calm his burn with the wet towel.

 

"Here," He placed out his hand and after a few seconds Dean gave him the towel. Sam quickly and gently dried his brother's chest and, squirted some of the ointment onto his fingers. He rubbed his fingers into Dean's chest, and felt him flinch slightly and tense up at his touch. But after a few more seconds of feeling Sam's fingers massage his aching chest he relaxed.

 

"What is that?" Dean asked with a moan, as he felt the ointment work its magic and cool down is burning hot skin.

 

"Anti-Inflammatory ointment." Sam answered curtly, mesmerized by the feel of Dean's muscled chest underneath his fingers.

 

After a few more minutes Sam couldn't take it anymore, and he reached up to press his lips against Dean's; and when he was literally a breath away Dean jerked, backing up several steps.

 

Too engrossed in the horror of what he had almost done and his brother's reaction Sam failed to notice the blush —or as Dean would argue- flush that crept into Dean's face. He mistook the desperate look in his brother's eyes as disgust, and then Dean was pushing past him and into the room. He grabbed a shirt at random and grabbed the keys and his jacket. He almost quite literally ran out of the room, leaving Sam staring at the door, with desperate longing.

 

XxX

 

He can't believe his brother had almost kissed him. No, what he really couldn't believe was how he reacted; and the hurt/pained look in his baby brother's eyes as he pulled away. But that was exactly WHY he had to pull away, this was his baby brother. He already crept along the border when he realized his feelings towards Sam, and nearly crossed that line when went and jerked him off. He wasn't going to risk anything; he knew he wouldn't be able to control himself once he felt Sammy's lips against his. He would go beyond reason, and let desire control his actions.

 

Really the worst part was that this probably wasn't Sam at all, doing….what he did last night… He was making Sam think he wanted something he didn't want at all. And immediately a cold sick feeling washed through him, shame and sadness flooding him at the same time was not a good thing for a desperate Dean. He steered his aimless walk towards the nearest bar he could find which, it turns out, was a miles walk away. His father had steered them to a different town then as planned, him getting a call from someone he had helped in the past. Maybe that was why he was pissed; having to call another hunter to do the previous job for him….. Shocked at how clear headed he was thinking, Dean walked into a dingy bar and sat himself at a stool. He waved over the bartender who narrowed his eyes at Dean.

 

"I.D" the grumpy old bartender grunted at him. Relieved that he had enough mind to bring his wallet, Dean fished out a fake I.D and practically shoved it in the guys face.

 

"There, see? Over twenty-one, now how about some whiskey." He said, wanting to laugh as the guy, who still looked dubious, reluctantly grabbed a mug and filled it with brown liquid. When the cup was placed in front of him, he grabbed it and downed it all, enjoying the slight burn of the liquid as he swallowed quickly. After he was done he waved for another, and then another, letting the alcohol loosen him up, but he was still not drunk enough for the misery to wash away. At least, until a blonde hooker walked up to him and offered him some shots, on her. And how could he say no, when he was all too desperate to drink everything away. So he said hell yes, and the bartender came over with a tray full of shot glasses filled with tequila.

 

He could feel himself getting drunker and drunker with every shot he downed. Then he found himself pushing the hooker up against an alley wall, how he got outside he didn't know. She fumbled with his zipper and all of a sudden Dean was reminded of Sam. His brother's face popping up in his mind all of a sudden, that he stepped back. The face heavily compacted with make-up twisted in confusion, and she made a grab for his jeans again. This time Dean pushed her back and took off, he ran the mile back to the motel without stopping.

 

He stopped outside of the door, his hand hovering over the door knob, breath coming in harsh gasps. Running while drunk wasn't a smart thing to do, he made note of that and cursed silently as he realized that the damn run had sobered him slightly. He was torn between going inside and confronting his brother, telling him how much he wanted him; or turning tail and running back to the hooker or any other hooker just so he could forget Sam. But he knew he couldn't forget Sam, no matter how hard he tried. So he took a deep breath and unlocked the door, twisted the door knob, and slowly he opened the door and walked inside. Again he paused at what he saw before him.

 

A figure was standing over his brother, whispering things into his ear, things that were causing the tears to roll down his Sam's face.

 

"What the hell!" he yelled, reaching in his pocket for the gun he always carried only to come up empty.

 

"Looking for this?" Spinning around, he came face to face with a girl who couldn't be more than fourteen, red hair chopped short and pulled behind her ears. She held his gun loosely in her hand, swirling it around one finger.

 

"Not too sharp drunk, now are we Dean?" she taunted. Dean's eye caught a glint and he almost sighed in relief as he noticed it to be the gun he always left under his pillow. He quickly turned his attention to the sneering girl in front of him, making sure she didn't notice where his eyes were drawn to. Slowly he backed up, and she advanced, apparently liking the fact that she was 'cornering' him.

 

"Dean?" Sam whispered, causing him to stop and turn towards the sound of his brother's hoarse whisper. The man standing in front of Sam grinned, and slammed his elbow hard into the back of Sam's head, making Sam's eyes roll back into his head and his eyelids shut, as he slumped forward unconscious.

 

"Sammy!" Dean yelled, all thoughts of grabbing the gun not more than a few inches to his right fled him, and he lunged for his baby brother. A force knocked him to the wall mid-glide, and he groaned as his head slammed harshly against the wall.

 

"Ah, ah, ah." Taunted the red- head as she smiled up at him

 

"Sammy here is coming with us." She grinned at Dean's enraged shocked eyes that glared down at them.

 

"God damn you, put me down!" he yelled, and then gasped as the pressure against him increased and he thought he would explode from all the pressure on his chest.

 

"Come now, cursing won't help you or Sammy at all." Dean struggled against the force, as he saw the man pick up his brother and fling him over his shoulder.

 

"Put Sam down now, you bastard!" His struggles became frantic, as he tried to get passed the increasing pressure, causing himself to yell in pain.

 

"You should have stayed with that hooker Dean." The red haired bitch whispered, as Dean's world went pitch black.


	3. He can't save you

  
Author's notes: this ons is mostly in Sam's pov  


* * *

*****

 

It was cold, so very cold. Sam felt like he was in a freezer, he could barely feel his body aside from his fingers. His mind was murky and jumbled, and he was still trying to figure out why he was so damn cold and hanging, at least it felt like he was hanging; instead of warm and in the motel bed. Then it hit him, his memories of last night or yesterday or whenever they happened, came pouring into his mind, filling him with a sense of dread as he figured out that the reason he wasn’t warm and comfortable in the motel bed, was because he was kidnapped. By what exactly he wasn’t sure, but he thought, that in this case it was a who, because he remembered that red head girl and that guy. He shuddered as he remembered that evil smirk, and scary murderous eyes. But Sam was still trying to figure out why Dean hadn’t been able to save him, if they were only humans, Dean could’ve taken them out in seconds. Or maybe Dean was too drunk to coordinate himself to even stand, Sam thought with a mental sigh. 

 

He had to figure out a way to get out of here, but first he had to open his eyes if he was hoping to get anywhere. So slowly and tentatively he opened his eyes and saw a dark room that was illuminated by a dull gray blue light coming from the only window way up near the ceiling. 

 

Looking around he saw one door, a big metal one several yards in front of him; the room was pretty big, cold complete with a sinister feeling to it, but big all the same. And then he heard a quiet laugh, and he swiveled toward the sound so fast that his already sore body was filled with pain, protesting his moving.

 

“Looks like Sammy boys awake.” With a small groan at the pain, Sam looked up to see the girl with red hair, she was standing in front of him now, smiling and in her hand she held a small syringe. At seeing the needle in her hands Sam’s eyes widened and he visibly cringed away, the girl not missing any of his movements smiled and held up the hand clutching said needle.

 

“Afraid of needles now are we?” she asked, raising a delicate red eyebrow, when all Sam did was eye the needle apprehensively she sighed and stepped forward, grabbing Sam’s arm when he tried to move away.

 

“Sorry kid, but we can’t have you up just yet. Sleep a little why don’t you? You look like you need it.” She smirked and stuck him with a long sharp needle; Sam winced slightly and watched as the clear liquid slipped into his arm. Immediately he could feel its effects and his eyes drooped. And the more he tried to fight it and keep them open, the heavier they got, and soon all he could do was give into the darkness, because he was just way too tired to fight it anymore.

 

“Dean….” He murmured, and the last thing he saw was his brother’s face, as the darkness swallowed him.

 

XxX

 

His head felt like it was going to explode, it was pulsating the vibrations making him wince. His throat felt scratchy and his tongue heavy and limp. He wanted to get up but his limbs seemed to have another idea, and didn’t budge. He settled for opening his eyes a bit and he came almost face to face with his father. Ok, so admittedly the first thing he never wanted to see was his father’s face because seriously? Waking up with a hangover, and then having to see his father’s disappointed/ pissed off face was more than likely to make him more sick.

 

His dad was just about to open his mouth when Deans face twisted into a grimace and John had about three seconds to grab the bucket and hold it under his son’s mouth, before Dean was throwing up things he really didn’t want to think about.

 

After several agonizing minutes of throwing up, Dean wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and, panting slightly, he laid back down. He closed his eyes and he remembered why he had passed out.

 

“Sammy!” he croaked out, and he jumped off the bed and tried to make his way to the door, when he swayed and would have crashed to the floor, if his dad hadn’t of grabbed him and sat him back down.

 

“That’s what I wanted to ask, Dean, where the HELL is your brother!?! I trust you to take care of your little brother and this is how you repay that trust!?” Dean winced, and looked down in shame, gathering his sense together and trying to even out the world’s spinning. Then a thought hit him.

 

“Why are you back so early? I thought that the job you were on would last around three weeks, and it hasn’t even been one yet.” 

 

“I called to tell you that I might just finish the job earlier than expected, and when I got no answer I rushed straight over here and I see this!” His father boomed, sweeping an arm towards the motel room. Looking around, Dean saw what he meant, the room looked like a tornado hit. The table was upturned, papers and objects strewn all over, gashes and dents in the wall, and a puddle of blood on the floor. Dean almost passed out at the sight, when he remembered it was more’n likely his blood, so he relaxed.

 

“And Dean, when I got here, you were still knocked out for a good two days.” Shocked Dean looked over at his father, careful to move his head slowly.

 

“What day did you get here?”

 

“The 18th.” And Dean felt the world spin again, he had been unconscious for four days!!

 

“Jesus Christ,” He muttered, and that meant that whoever took Sam had four whole fucking days to get a head start on them, they had to work damn fast. And with a sigh he turned towards his father,

 

“Here’s what happened….”

 

XxX

 

He woke up slowly, eyes heavy and sleep muddled mind murky with the stuff that damn girl shot him with. His wrists hurt, and looking up he saw the rusted chains that held him in mid-air. He glared at them and heard movement outside, a scuffle of boots, and some quiet murmurs. He strained his ears to try and catch what was being said, but was only able to catch bits and pieces.

 

“Need him….”

 

“Can’t yet though, have to keep him asleep.”

 

“Wait, our orders were to not kill him…… but no one said we couldn’t play with him.” And Sam shivered at the meanings of those words, he tried to look for an escape, a way for him to get out, he tried pulling on the rust brown chains, but they wouldn’t budge.

 

“Oh good, your awake.” Sam looked up, turning fear stricken eyes to the man that stood in the door way

 

“This wouldn’t be nearly as much fun if you had been asleep.” He smiled cruelly, and walked towards Sam.

 

“No, NO!!!” he yelled, as four more figures stalked in, and had their ‘fun’ with him. Beating him, taunting him, and torturing him.

 

“Dean!!” Sam sobbed, through his tears, body sore and pounding in agony as they continued to torture him.

 

“Dean can’t save you Sam, he can never save you.” And then his world went blissfully black.


	4. Lost hope

Really, what was the point? He had lost hope long ago, back when they still only used their fists. Before they started to use the whips and then chains; before the stretchers and wires were brought in; he hated the wires the most. When they would bring them in and electrocute him over, and over until he couldn’t feel his body, only focusing on the pain and heat that surrounded him. But at least after those they left him alone for three days, letting him recover before they started in again. He wishes that they would go back to just beating him, because then at least, he would be knocked out for god knows how long. And they would leave him in the cell for days, probably weeks, but since he had no real way of telling the time or date he couldn’t tell either how long he was out, or even how long he’d been here. 

 

He had held the hope that Dean would come and save him, but every time he thought that, every time he held onto that, they seemed to read his mind and beat and tortured him even more harshly. So after a time, he just stopped. He had been in here so long, that he forgot what it was like to feel the sun on his skin. What it was like being outside, or eating warm food that didn’t taste like dirty old socks. He forgot what socks felt like though, since his only pair fell apart long ago. He forgot a lot of things, like what he looked like, or what it was like to breathe fresh air, or even what it was like to walk since he normally just laid still and limp on the cold dirty floor of his cell. But he never forgot what Dean looked like, his face haunting him in his dreams night after night. 

 

And Sam heard the footsteps outside of the door, and he sobbed as two walked in, wires held tightly in hands that were covered with spiky metal gloves.

 

****

 

It’s been five months seven days, and six hours since Sammy had gone missing. And Dean was sitting on a motel bed, a cold clammy feeling settling into his empty stomach. He rarely ever ate, never smiled, spoke only when directly asked a question from his father, and was entirely miserable. He missed Sammy so bad, his absence creating a deep long hole in his chest where his heart used to be. He blamed himself constantly, he knew that if he had just let Sammy kiss him, if he hadn’t have been such a freaking pussy, Sam would be with them right now. Dean would have been sober enough to keep his baby brother safe, he screwed up big time. Him and his dad both knew this. They barely even talked anymore. He knew that his father still blamed him this, for the fact that Sam was out with god knows what, instead of sitting in one of the motel beds reading. All Dean wanted now, was to find Sam, make sure he was safe, and then kill whoever took him. He would make sure that they never lived to see another day, that they would die painful deaths.

 

“Dean.” He jerked and turned towards his father, who had his bag in his hands. 

 

“I have a lead now pack up your things fast, so we can get the hell out of here.” Dean nodded mutely as he grabbed his duffel, reached under the pillow and brought his gun out, and slipped it in his back pocket. He slipped on his boots and grabbed his jacket. After a few minutes of staring at Dean with this look on his face, John walked out and got in the Impala. Shutting off the light, Dean closed the door and followed his dad to the car. They took off, and Dean stared blankly out of the window, Sam’s face floating in his mind. He had cried himself to sleep so many times, that he could no longer cry any more tears. And since he hardly slept any more it didn’t matter much. All he did was close his eyes at the sudden pain that coursed through his chest, and he waited out the hours it took them to get wherever they were going.

 

****

 

He no longer thought, no longer showed any emotions beside fear. His mind was blissfully blank, his dreams as dark and empty as his thoughts. He lay curled in a corner as a plate was shoved through a slot in the door. It was the usual. A slice of stale bread, a puddle of grey looking slop, and a small cup of water, Sam crawled over to it slowly, and picked at it sparingly. He got one meal a day, and he wanted to make it worth it. His stomach growling at him to just shove it all in his mouth, but the last time he did that he threw up, and when they came in and saw that he had, they made him eat it back up. He learned not to throw up while eating after that, because on the occasion that he threw up during a beating they normally just let him lie in the puddles of his blood and sick that coated the already filthy floor. 

 

After he sipped at the water and finished his ‘food’ he crawled back to his corner and laid there. He stared blankly at the wall for an endless amount of time, when he heard the door creak open and a voice call out hesitantly.

 

“Sammy?” he twitched at the familiar voice, flashes of green eyes and a sliver of a feeling that he supposed to be safety and comfort filtered through him. But he knew it was a trick, one of their sick games and tears filled up his hazel eyes.

 

"Sammy!!” the figure ran up to where Sam was crumpled on the floor, and knelt by his side, a hand lightly touching his face. He flinched and tried to shy away.

 

“Sammy it’s me, Dean.” Sam looked up, his eyes wide and the tears built up but didn’t spill over. He looked at the face of the person pretending to be his brother. They could always get his face just right, the freckles, his eyes, his lips. But it was a lie. It was always a lie. And when the slap sent his face to the side, he knew he was right.

 

“You worthless piece of shit.” It said softly, and that hurt more than any yell. It kicked him a few times in the side, before kneeling down and caressing his cheek. The tears ran freely now, as he watched his brother’s face contorted in anger and hate, in disgust.

 

“This is what you deserve you sick fuck.” It said lightly, almost conversational, as the fingers on his face tightened, and it grabbed a handful of Sam’s hair and dragged him to the middle of the room, Sam whimpering in pain, his body limp, offering no resistance. ‘Dean’ grabbed the chains that were lying on the floor, and tightened them around his wrists, and this time Sam struggled. He knew what was coming, and he tried in vain to weakly push at the clamp around his wrists. He had no strength to even fight back properly, as he was lifted up by the chain, and several seconds later he was dangling from his wrists. 

 

He whimpered pathetically as ‘Dean’ ran his fingers down his chest lightly, brushing over the bruises he made on his ribs. He traced several scars along his torso before moving in closer until his face was inches from Sam’s. Staring into those deep green eyes that he had loved so much, Sam knew better than to look away, he would only make this much worse. He kept saying over and over again that this wasn’t Dean; this was some sort of shape shifter or something. He had to keep reminding himself as ‘Dean’ bit roughly into his neck, drawing blood. And all Sam did was whimper as ‘Dean’ chuckled and licked over the new wound on his neck, the first of many going to be made that night. 

 

“But isn’t this what you want Sammy? Don’t you love me?”

And Sam’s screams were heard throughout the entire building he was in. His cries of pain as Dean raped him again.


	5. Close your eyes and pretend

  
Author's notes: i don't like to count this as my first sex scene because...... well for obvious reasons *looks away*  


* * *

*****

 

They had finally found a worthy lead. Dean was fully attentive as his father talked to another hunter in the den of the old house they were currently using. Granted he was sitting in the dingy ‘dining room’ that connected to the kitchen cleaning their guns. But he paid attention, catching some of their muffled words, from which he didn’t like the direction they were headed. The few he caught made him clench the oil stained rag tightly and glare at the air in front of him. Again he was wondering why in the hell they were still here if they could be out looking for Sammy. But he just sat there on the small chair that groaned in its protest when he shifted his weight. It was his birthday today. He remembered when he looked at the calendar that he kept in his duffel. But it was long forgotten, and really? He didn’t give a fuck if it was his birthday or the damn Fourth of July, all he wanted, all he cared about, was getting Sam back and killing the fuckers that took him. But he couldn’t do that if they were sitting here doing squat. 

 

He started bouncing his leg impatiently as he resumed cleaning the guns. But his mind was wandering every ten seconds, and he couldn’t concentrate on the task at hand at all. Finally after twenty minutes he just threw the rag on the table and leaned back in the chair, aware of the way it squeaked and groaned. Aware of how, after five minutes, the muffled voices grew even quieter, and he could no longer hear anything. Frustrated, Dean just sat there and glared at the wall, an act that he seemed to be doing a lot of recently. And after five more minutes he just got up and walked over to the room he was staying in. He walked up the stairs and down the hall, and when he opened the door his heart clenched. Two beds. One occupied one empty. That’s not the way it’s supposed to be, Dean thought as he grabbed his duffel and looked for the calendar he carried. When it was found, he tacked it on the wall by his bed. He shuffled through the bag for a bit, and pulled out the sharpie that was found hiding under one of his shirts.

 

He looked at the clock, and when it turned to 9:00, he sighed and crossed another day off the calendars page. That meant that it’s officially been six months, twenty four days, and one minute that Sam’s been gone. And Dean felt every second that ticked by.

 

~~

 

Groaning weakly Sam cracked his eyelids open a bit and his head pounded, it was unusually bright in here; and when he attempted to open them, his eyes felt like they were on fire, and his head roared as the blood rushed through his ears. He shut his eyes quickly and tried to move his head away from the orange glow that took place behind his eyelids, but when he moved, the lower half of his body, ok his ass, sent out waves of pain. And he remembered what had happened the night before, and he remembered what happened that time he woke up after ‘Dean’ had raped him the first time. And he wished that he hadn’t moved, wished that he hadn’t made a noise, when he spoke.

 

“Up already Sammy?” and he cringed as he finally got his eyes to open a bit, and saw ‘Dean’ leaning against the wall opposite him, watching him intently. He stood silent, cradling a childish hope that he’ll just leave, so Sam can go back to sleep; so that his poor body can have a break. But of course the luck of a Winchester just never ran through, and he pushed up off the wall and walked over to him. Never breaking stride he raised his arm and rained it down, slapping Sam across the face. His blood really did whoosh through his ears that time. He could feel his cheek warm up and sting at the spot where he was slapped.

 

“You answer your brother when he speaks to you!” ‘Dean’ chastised with a sick grin on his face. All Sam did was look back at him, knowing better than to look away, and knowing that he really didn’t want to be answered, just wanted a reason to slap him around even more.

 

“So, did we have fun last night, hmm?” ‘Dean’ leaned in and licked Sam’s earlobe. “Cause I sure did.” He breathed into his ear. Shuddering Sam started to shake as he felt a finger trace along his spine, down and down. He wanted to cry when he felt a finger trail along his ass crack. He wanted to crawl away. He would rather have Dean beat him than have to do this again.

 

“You’ve been out for a day, I’ve been so bored.” ‘Dean’ said as he flipped Sam around and held him in place. And he just plunged straight in, causing Sam to cry out at the rough, dry entry. This time the tears just started to pour down his face, and he sobbed as ‘Dean’ started to move, not letting Sam adjust to the sudden fullness. He felt teeth bite along his neck, some drawing out blood, and some just turning purple. And then he brushed along his prostate and Sam shivered unwillingly, as pleasure trailed lazily up his spin. No, he didn’t want to feel that when this was happening. He didn’t, not one bit, but then Dean hit it full on, and Sam’s pained whimpers turned into muffled groans, as he bit his lips and tried to keep the moans in. A breathy chuckle rang in his ears, as Dean sped up, and grabbing Sam by the hair he pulled his head back and gripped his hair tighter. Then Sam felt it, first the shudder that rang out through his body, and then the warm spurts as ‘Dean’ came inside of him. And then suddenly he felt a hand on his dick, and sick realization shuddered through him along with the sudden pleasure. He was going to make Sam come. He tried to push it all down, the amazing feel of Dean’s hands. They even got the slight roughness of his hands right, and if Sam closed his eyes and pretended, he could make himself think it was Dean, his Dean. Not this sick copy of him that was doing this. The faster he came, the faster he would be left alone…… he hoped. Sometimes things didn’t turn out the way he hoped, and when he felt his orgasm coming closer, he whimpered, biting his lip even harder to contain any noise he made.

 

“Yeah, come for me Sammy.” And despite himself, he did. It shuddered through him, and he cried out when he came, no longer able to keep his hold on his lip. Panting, Sam opened his eyes and found himself staring straight into those green eyes. 

 

The only thing that they couldn’t copy was the way Dean’s eyes would look, happy and alive, or the glint in his eyes when he was planning something along the lines of a prank. These eyes were cold, emotionless as Dean’s lips pulled into a smile that didn’t reach his eyes; which actually made everything easier when he felt a punch in his gut. Then, when he folded into himself slightly, a punch to his head, which ultimately knocked him clear into the other side.

 

~~

 

Finally after two and a half months, they were going to get Sam. His dad spent the night explaining things to him, though in vague detail, his dad told him enough to make sure he didn’t slip up. He had two choices of where Sam could be both of which were at least a three hour drive in opposite directions. His dad had said that if they didn’t choose right, then Sam would have been moved to another location faster than they can make it to the other sight. So this choice was crucial, get it wrong and they might never find Sammy. 

 

He took another look at the map that was laid out in front of him. The choices: Little Rock, or Pine Bluff, Arkansas. And for some reason every instinct that was in him was urging him to go to Pine Bluff. He could feel that strong pull in his gut, it told him to pick Pine Bluff, and he couldn’t ignore it, because if he was right but they went to Little Rock, then they would have missed their chances at getting Sammy back.

 

“Dad,” He muttered, his voice cracking a little at its lack of use. With a surprised look on his face, his Father turned towards him. He looked kind of chocked to see Dean finally talking, but hid it quickly. He just sat there, and when it became apparent that he was waiting for Dean to continue, he did.

 

“I think we should go to Pine Bluff.” He said

 

“What makes you think that Sam’s there?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

 

“I- I don’t know, it’s just this feeling, this hunch I’ve got.” He knew it wouldn’t convince his dad, but if his dad ended up going to Little Rock, he’d hot wire a car and head in the other direction. Either way he was going to Pine Bluff, with or without his dad, and John saw that. He looked into his eldest son’s eyes and he saw that determined clench of his jaw, the finality in his eyes. And he wanted to sigh wearily, but he fought against it and cleared his mind, before turning towards the map again.

 

“Yeah, I think your right.” The look of shock that crossed his son’s face was priceless, and he would have laughed if this wasn’t such a somber moment.

 

“Get everything ready, we’re headed to Pine Bluff.”


	6. Chapter 6

  
Author's notes: I am sorry for the late update!!! it's taken me awhile but here it is!!! to make up for time i made this chapter looooong!!!! =O but that aside!! ENJOY!!!  


* * *

____________

 

He had been staring at the grey and grimy wall for what felt like an eternity. He could feel pain pulse throughout his entire body, there wasn’t a part of him that didn’t hurt or ache. He was tired, so tired. He just wanted to give in to the darkness, let it consume him whole until he was nothing. Until he couldn’t remember.

Until he couldn’t feel. 

 

It was always there, waiting ever so patiently for him to just give up, to loosen his grip on the world, until he had no choice but to let it consume. But each and every time he walked up to that door, something held him back; tethering him to the world that he so desperately wanted to leave. He couldn’t remember what it was that made him hesitate, but it was there. It shone like the unwanted beacon that it was. It held him down, kept him breathing when it would be so much easier to stop. 

 

Sam sighed, just a quick escape of precious breath. He didn’t know how long he could stay in pain, how long he could stand the unbelievable torture. He hoped that whatever it was that was keeping him here was worth it all.

 

~

 

Dean was pretty sure that he had broken several laws already as he pushed his foot down, making the Impala speed up and race faster down the dirt road. He and his dad had taken separate cars. He hadn’t questioned his father when he saw the foreign truck in the driveway before they left, he just grabbed the keys to the Impala, thrown his and Sammy’s bags in the back seat, and taken off.

 

He looked in the review mirror and saw the headlights to his father’s truck shine back brightly. Dean shook his head and willed the already blindingly fast car to go faster, the miles between him and his brother were hopefully getting shorter and shorter and if they weren’t, if Sam wasn’t at the warehouse, Dean didn’t know what he would do.

 

Dean shook his head and stared out at the fast passing road. He had already memorized the address of the warehouse they were headed, and with one look at the clock he saw it would take twenty minutes to get there. He was making it in ten.

 

~

 

“Sir,” the woman opened the door and peeked in warily. When she got a nod from the man kneeling on the floor she pushed the door open and stepped inside. 

 

“What is it?” he asked, standing up to face her while wiping his hands on the rag that he pulled out of his pocket.

 

“The Winchester’s are coming. They found out where we are and they plan to take Sam back.” There was no sign of distress, no panic no nothing that crossed over this man’s face other than intrigue.

 

“Well then we don’t want to be rude now do we? We must welcome them properly.” A cold, sinister smile spread over his face, and his eyes flashed black as he turned back to the cowering child that was whimpering pathetically in the corner. Her eyes were wide in terror as the man focused his attention back on her.

 

The woman nodded her head although she knew that the man was no longer watching, and she closed the doors to the child’s cries of pain.

 

~

 

The second that Dean saw the warehouse come into view his heart sped up several paces and a sweat broke out over his palms, Dean slipped on his cool and calm mask as he skid the car to a stop. He would cuss himself out for that later, right now all that was on his mind was finding his brother, that’s all that’s been on his mind ever since that day six months ago. He grabbed his gun, took three precious seconds to check that he had all his weapons strapped and ready, and threw open the door. 

 

His dad was already throwing his car door open and jumping out. They had already run through their plan back at the house, and their eyes met in silent confirmation that it was not forgotten. His dad took off to the back and Dean made his way to the side entrance. He hadn’t liked the idea of them splitting up but his dad had pointed out that they would find Sam much easier that way, and that was all Dean had to hear. 

 

Dean gripped the canister of holy water that was in his pocket, squeezing it before he started to pick the lock open. He wasn’t supposed to make his presence known if he could avoid it; that was of course if they didn’t already know they were here.

 

Cold air blew in his face as he walked into the darkness and he quietly shut the door. He ran down the hall senses alert, feet barley making a sound. He could hear a commotion already starting east of him; his dad had started the distraction, which meant he had to get moving. Fast. 

 

He started kicking in door after door, finding nothing but empty rooms, the walls and floors splattered with blood. His gut twisted in sickening knots as he kicked down the doors with renewed vigor. He came to a point where the doors had to be picked open, and he was sure he was setting records for ‘lock opened in less than ten seconds’.

 

He was blowing through a countless number of doors and halls, one after the other he searched for his brother. He kept coming up empty and he was starting to lose hope as he moved on to another hall. When he reached a door in the middle of the hall, he saw the extra protection that was put on it. Locks and chains and he was sure that a guard would have been here if it weren’t for his father’s distraction. He shot off the last lock in his impatience, and with a grunt he pushed the door open.

 

~

 

He was scared out of his half sleep state when he heard the yelling start. He could here thumps, screams varying from enraged to pain filled. He was shaking, his arms already screaming for the weight they were carrying to be eased. He could feel himself starting to sweat the grime that covered him smearing as his sweat ran down his face and body. Then he heard feet running up to his door, heard the locks being clicked open, heard the chains being removed, then he heard a gunshot so close that even through the door it was deafening. 

 

He was trembling in fear, his exhausted body screaming its protest at his movements. He shut his eyes and curled in on himself as much as he could from his position, and then the door blew open. For a few seconds he kept his eyes shut, but then he slowly started to open them and he could have cried.

 

_He_ was back _he_ was going to go for round three. Sam couldn’t believe it. _He_ had never done this before, Sam didn’t know what to expect other than the knowledge that is was going to hurt all over again. He wasn’t sure his body could handle a round three….. maybe he would die this time. Maybe it could all end, but then he felt that tug that kept him here and a sudden urge to live swept through him with a force.

 

“No...” he whispered in despair.

 

“Sammy!!” _he_ yelled, threw down the chain in his hand, and ran towards him. When a hand reached up to his face Sam cringed, he could feel tears stream down his face and he just wanted to sleep again.

 

“Please, not again, please.” This sudden urge for life, to not feel the pain, it was what he remembered having felt the first weeks he had been here. They had stopped after some time, the urges, the hope. Sam didn’t think that it was possible for him to feel that again. He hated to plead, knew it only gave _him_ pleasure, but he had too this time.

 

“What are you talking about Sammy? It’s me, _Dean_!” The hand that had paused started again for his face, and Sam tried to force his weak body to move to get _away_. 

 

“Don’t hurt me again, please, don’t, not- not again.” He kept mumbling over and over, his lips disconnected from his brain.

 

“What are you talking about? God Sammy what did they do to you?” Why did he keep playing this game? They both knew that it wasn’t really Dean, knew that he was going to rape him again, but still he pretended. Sam refused to look at his face even though he knew that he would punish him for it, he couldn’t look into the twisted perversion of his brother’s beautiful face, and he couldn’t bare it. Never the less, when he felt the world tilt and his vision blur his eyes sought out the one before him and he could barely register the look of actual concern written over it, before the last _‘please’_ escaped in a breathy whisper, and the darkness came to consume him.

 

~

 

He wasn’t expecting to find his brother happy and healthy, but to find him like _this_ was something Dean wished they both didn’t have to go through. His brother was chained to the ceiling by his wrists, his trembling body hanging limp and curled in an awkward position. He was nearly black with smeared sweaty dirt, his clothes were so thin and worn, so torn and colorless behind all the grime, that Dean was surprised it held together enough to cover Sam.

 

He took it all in, in less than a minute, but it felt like an eternity that he was staring at the pitiful form that was his brother. Images of a grinning and laughing Sam flooded his brain, and were replaced by the dirty and cowering figure before him. Dean saw red, he wanted to kill who ever took his brother, wanted to seriously torture them beyond sanity, because Dean’s own sanity was on a thread.

 

When his brother lifted his head up enough to see him, when his eyes slowly opened, he saw them widen in fear. He could see his brother tremble even more, could see tears flood his wide terrorized eyes. It wasn’t even registering in his brain that his brother seemed so panicked. But when he had run towards him, when he lifted his hand to caress his brother cheek, to tell him that he had found him, that he was safe now, his brother cringed, the tears ran freely down his face and he had fucking _cringed_. And then it hit him. Sam was afraid of _him._

 

Nothing in his entire life could have ever prepared him to be on the other side of the looking glass. Sam kept on muttering, pleading for him not to hurt him. And Dean could feel the rug pull out from under him. His whole world tilted to the left and his mind was still trying to process the fact that his brother was so terrified of him, his own brother. Sam wouldn’t even look at him, the frightened yet somewhat blank eyes were glazed over with tears and fear, and he wouldn’t look up from the floor. He kept on pleading for Dean not to hurt him, he was sorry, please don’t hurt him.

 

“What are you talking about? God Sammy what did they do to you?” horror and pain, confusion and barely bottled rage seeped out of his words, and Sam looked up towards him and then his eyes rolled in the back of his head and he slumped even more towards the ground.

 

What the fuck was going on?! Dean was filled with so many conflicting emotions all at once that he was surprised he hadn’t exploded. 

 

Confusion, pain, anger, relief, more of that confusion that Dean hated. What the hell had they done to Sammy, god it was all his fault. If he hadn’t of gone out and gotten drunk he would have been more prepared to protect his baby brother. Dean put his baby brother through all this _he_ was responsible for what lay limply before him. 

 

A thump and a loud yell broke through his guilt trip and Dean quickly remembered where they were. He shook his head and gathered himself. He had Sam, he was safe. That, right now, was all that mattered. He easily broke through the rusted out chains and when his brother fell towards the floor Dean caught him in his arms. Sam felt so brittle, Dean was afraid that he’d break him if he held him the wrong way. Anger welled up in him but he pushed it down into the cage where all his other emotions lay, and he ran out of the room, his brother cradled safely in his arms. 

 

When he came to dividing halls he saw his father struggling with a woman on his right. His father caught sight of him and he jerked his head in the direction of the exit. Dean didn’t need to be told twice, he was worried about his father but Sam’s safety was of utmost importance, and Dean readjusted his grip on his brother and ran towards the exit. All the care he had taken to not being noticed was thrown away, he just ran, ran out of the building and to the Impala that waited just on the edge of the gravel road.

 

He threw the back door open and pushed the bags that were on the seat, to the floor. Carefully he laid Sam down on the seat and then he gently shut the door. When he was in the front he took one last look to the warehouse before he turned the key and heard the car rumble to life. The side entrance door flew open and Dean saw several people run out and towards him and Sam. He threw the car into drive and reeled out of there.

 

He kept the speed on the car until he was several miles away, and even then he only slowed down enough so that he wouldn’t be pulled over by the cops.

 

If Dean thought that the drive over there had been long, that was nothing compared to how long it took to get back. Even though he had Sam laid out safely in the back seat Dean could still feel dread, like they weren’t at all out of the woods yet. One to always trust his instincts, Dean made sure he stuck to the back roads and he stepped up on the gas, flying them down the road at a blinding speed. If anyone was to see them, the car would merely be a black blur in their vision for less than a few seconds.

 

He couldn’t help looking in the rearview mirror at his brother ever few seconds. He refused to let himself think of anything other than getting back to the house. He couldn’t afford to let himself get distracted. He kept his senses up and when the house came into view he slowed the car to a gentle stop. He had planned on getting a motel some miles away, but he just wanted to get Sam out as quickly as possible, He wanted to check over the wounds that he had seen on his baby brother and that would take too long considering the warehouse was near in the middle of nowhere.

 

He got out and opened the back door grabbing both his and Sam’s bags, slinging them over his shoulder before he turned to grab his brother. He gently picked up Sam, who felt so weightless that it scared the shit out of Dean. When he had them safely inside the house he quickly moved to set his brother down on the old beaten up couch that lay in the middle of the room. He ran around the perimeter checking all the salt lines and adding fresh ones. 

 

When he had that done he picked up his brother again and carried him up the stairs. When he pushed open the door to their bedroom he quickly shut the door and laid him down in the bed farthest from the door. He took a quick look at Sam and set to work surrounding them with salt. The door, the window (which he covered with a sheet), the closet, and finally he set a circle of salt around both their beds.

 

When he was done he made his way back over to Sam, who was still out cold. Dean couldn’t stop staring at him, it had taken him six long months to get his brother back, but it felt like years since he had seen him. The trip to get him couldn’t have taken more than three hours at most, but it felt like it all took months. Dean felt exhausted and drained, but the sight of his brother alive and breathing, filled him with a new kind of energy. And Dean didn’t hesitate in laying himself out next to his brother. He laid himself as a barrier between Sam and the door. He wanted to go get the supplies so that he could clean up his dirty baby brother, he wanted to check him over and change him into better clothes, but Dean knew that he wouldn’t let his brother out of his sight, not even for the few minutes it would take to gather everything up. 

 

He wasn’t going to let anything else happen to his brother. He wasn’t going to lose him again. Whatever tried to take his brother again, Dean was going to make sure he killed it before it even got so much as a glance at his baby brother.

 

And Dean let himself fall into a thin sleep, gun clenched in his hand, and his body wrapped like the protective wall that he was, between Sam and the rest of the world.


End file.
